We will remain calm.
We will do breathing exercises.
We will forget to exhale, get woozy, and think we have COVID.
We will swing between optimism and depression and back again.
We will distract ourselves with a puzzle.
We will realize that the real puzzle is how to save our democracy, then crack open the vodka.
We will tell ourselves we’re not going to watch the coverage, then gaze at the TV while also toggling through ten pages on our iPhones.
We will scream, “WHAT THE HELL, ARIZONA!?!”
We will scream, “GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, PENNSYLVANIA!”
We will scream, “JESUS H. CHRIST, PULL YOUR FUCKING HEAD OUT, FLORIDA!”
We will wonder aloud if we should have moved to a swing state after the 2016 election because those bitches get all the attention.
We will do more breathing exercises.
We will invent a new drink when our Pepto Bismol falls into our vodka.
We will tweet horrible things to Marco Rubio.
We will tweet horrible things to Ted Cruz.
We will imagine ourselves accepting a Nobel Peace Prize for our horrible tweets.
We will visualize new hairstyles for Chuck Todd. Caesar? No, shag. No, Caesar. No, shag.
We will gently remind ourselves that the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.
We will wonder why the hell a moral universe even has an arc, and where is Stephen Hawking to explain that when we need him?
We will curse the electoral college and all other colleges, for good measure.
We will look at the percentages and probability numbers and wonder why elections involve so much math and why they’re not more literature-heavy.
We will tell our children, “NO, WE DON’T KNOW WHO THE WINNER IS” and “NO, WE DIDN’T STRESS-EAT YOUR HALLOWEEN CANDY” and “NO, WE DON’T KNOW WHAT’S FOR DINNER, ASK NATE SILVER.”
We will add a handful of CBD gummies to our Pepto-tini.
We will get multiple texts from family and friends that begin with “It’s looking good!” and answer them all with “OMG DON’T JINX IT, DUMMY."
We will feel a burst of excitement and announce, “THE BEST. IS YET. TO COME” to the Amazon delivery guy.
We will feel a burst of fear, then google “Hexes that really work,” taking particular interest in ingredients found in our pantry.
We will remind ourselves that no matter what happens, there are more good people than bad people and that we will all be okay.
We will then see a video of a maskless QAnon member licking shopping carts the day before she’s elected to Congress.
We will wonder aloud if we should divorce our spouses and find fiancés in New Zealand or another country run by a woman.
As election night ends, and we — maybe? Kind of? Possibly? Oh god, really!? — we know who won the election, we won’t believe our eyes.
We won’t believe our ears.
We won’t believe any of our other organs, especially our hearts.
We will cry and laugh and wish we hadn’t had so many Pepto-tinis.
We will tweet one last horrible thing to Donald Trump.
We will finally fall asleep and dream of a brighter tomorrow. Or at least the day after that.